Hi there! I’m Cassandre. In this article, I’m sharing how we moved from Taiwan to Kyoto, Japan—and settled here through the Japan Business Manager Visa as full-time YouTubers. I’ll also answer the questions we get the most, like: “How did you move to Japan? Why did you choose to live in Japan?” “Can you handle living in Japan without Japanese?” and more.
Moving to Kyoto from scratch: how hard is it really?
First, a quick note: we’re not “immigrants” in the classic sense—we’re closer to long-stay residents. Even though a long-term move feels different from immigrating permanently, building a life in Japan long-term is still hard.
That’s because Japan isn’t exactly an “immigration country”. Whether you want to immigrate or simply stay long-term, there are real restrictions—unlike countries that offer easy retirement visas, investment immigration programs, or other straightforward paths to long-term residency.
Also, one thing many readers care about: a long-stay visa like this isn’t the same as permanent residency. Still, if you maintain stable, compliant residency over time, it may become possible to pursue permanent residency later—depending on your situation and Japan’s rules at the time.
If you want to legally stay in Japan for an extended period, you generally have a few main options:
- Study in Japan and get a Student Visa
- Marry a Japanese national and get a Spouse Visa
- Be hired by a Japanese company or transferred from your company abroad, and get a Work Visa
- Or, the less common route: apply for a Business Manager Visa
For us, we chose the Business Manager Visa route to move to Kyoto as YouTubers.
What is a Japan Business Manager Visa and how can foreigners apply?
Simply put, the Business Manager Visa (status of residence “Business Manager”) is for foreigners who want to set up and run a company in Japan.
For the most up-to-date official requirements, the best source is Japan’s Immigration Services Agency: Immigration Services Agency (ISA) — Status of Residence “Business Manager”.
If you want a broader, business-focused overview of visas and setting up in Japan, JETRO is also helpful: JETRO — Visas and Status of Residence.
Compared with other long-term visas, this route is usually not the easiest. If you’re young and still studying, a student visa is often the simplest. If your employer sends you to Japan, that can be more straightforward too.
The Business Manager Visa, on the other hand, typically involves more paperwork, higher setup costs, and a more detailed review of your business plan and operating structure.
We were lucky enough to find an administrative scrivener (a licensed legal specialist) based in Tokyo who helped us handle the process smoothly.
One thing I want to say clearly—especially for readers used to a DIY approach: in Japan, doing everything remotely and alone can be extremely difficult. A big part of it is the language (most documents and communications are in Japanese), and another big part is the “real world” setup—like securing an office lease that meets requirements and navigating how things are actually done on the ground. For us, hiring a professional wasn’t about convenience—it was about reducing risk and avoiding expensive mistakes.
Since this was our first time doing anything like this, we naturally had a million questions. Before signing any contract, we discussed every detail with our administrative scrivener over Line and video calls—things like visa conditions, process timelines, and more. They were patient and explained everything step by step, which helped a lot.
They also assessed our chances upfront. If the risk seemed too high, they would have declined to take our case—because if an application fails, they only charge half the service fee. Even so, from our first conversation all the way to finally settling in Kyoto, we were constantly on edge the whole time.
Our General Process for Applying for a Business Manager Visa
Here’s a simple breakdown of how we applied for a Business Manager Visa in Japan, for anyone curious about what the steps look like:
- Signing the contract: We officially signed the contract in mid-November 2021. At this stage, we had to decide which city we’d open our company in, the company name, business scope, and more. We spent quite a bit of time discussing all these details with our administrative scrivener.
- Preparing the capital: After signing, we wired ¥5,000,000 (about USD 32,000 at the time) into the scrivener’s account. Back in 2021, ¥5,000,000 was commonly treated as the minimum capital benchmark many applicants aimed for. (Rules and screening practices can change, so please use the ISA official page as the final reference.)
Once the visa is approved, the remaining funds—minus necessary fees (company registration costs, office rent, setup costs, and the scrivener’s service fee)—will be returned to you. We didn’t want to deal with the hassle or fees of wiring money back to Taiwan, so we left the balance with our scrivener until we arrived and opened our Japan Post Bank account—then they transferred the rest to us. - Renting an office: To open a company in Japan, you generally need a physical office space first. So right after signing, you rent an office. (That also means you’ll start paying rent from day one—even while waiting for your visa to be approved—so budget for a few months of rent in advance.) Our scrivener connected us with a local real estate agent who helped us find a suitable office.
- Preparing documents:
- Send a company seal and registration certificate to Japan: This was a little nerve-wracking to mail, but it’s necessary. You can have a new seal made to avoid overlap with any existing bank or official seals.
- Marriage certificate: Since we applied as a couple, we needed to prove our relationship.
- Bank statement: This shows that the capital is genuinely yours and has been in your account for at least several months. This helps avoid suspicion that you borrowed the money temporarily. If it’s seen as borrowed funds, you may need extra proof—who you borrowed from, your relationship, why they lent you the money, etc. It’s a big hassle, so it’s better to avoid that situation if possible.
- ID photos: Required for the visa application.
- Company registration: Once you’ve completed the above, you can officially submit your application for the Business Manager Visa.
- Business plan: You also submit a business plan for your company. Our scrivener helped us draft this and translate it into Japanese.
When you open a company in Japan under a Business Manager Visa, having a separate office is typically expected.
Your office and home usually need to be distinct. In some cases, it may be possible to combine them under specific conditions, but it’s not as simple as renting a normal apartment and calling it an office. For example, certain setups may require a standalone house (not an apartment) and a clearly separated, dedicated office space accessible from the entrance. These places also tend to cost more.
So if your visa hasn’t been approved yet and you haven’t entered Japan, it can be safer to rent a small office space first (even as a temporary setup). You can always move later if needed.
Also, keep in mind that many properties in Japan won’t rent to foreigners, so finding an office (or even a place to live) isn’t always as easy as you might think.
Registering a company in Japan is actually fairly straightforward—the paperwork itself and the registration timeline are usually quite efficient. The real uncertainty lies in whether your Business Manager Visa will pass screening. That decision is made by Japan’s Immigration Services Agency (ISA). Depending on the region and the complexity of the case, we had heard of applicants waiting six or even seven months, sometimes being asked to revise and resubmit documents before receiving a final decision.
Once we submitted our application, there was nothing left to do but wait. We felt anxious, of course, and were often tempted to ask our scrivener for updates. But in reality, once an application enters the system, it moves entirely through government review channels—there is no live tracking, and even the scrivener cannot see internal progress updates. To our surprise, though, our waiting period turned out to be much shorter than we had mentally prepared for.
Our Business Manager Visa Was Approved in About One Month
It honestly felt unreal. Roughly four weeks after submission, our scrivener contacted us to say that our Business Manager Visa had been approved. Even they were slightly surprised at how smoothly everything moved. During that month, we had worried about everything—what if it were rejected? Were we too old to be starting a company in Japan? Had we just wired a large sum of money to someone we barely knew? Thankfully, our scrivener turned out to be professional, meticulous, and trustworthy, and the process concluded without complications.
One thing worth mentioning: this timeline is not guaranteed, and processing speed can vary significantly. Based on what we heard and experienced, applications filed in Tokyo may take longer simply due to higher volume. In cities like Kyoto, where the number of applications is smaller, reviews may sometimes move faster. That said, this is not an official rule—every case is evaluated individually.
Originally, We Didn’t Plan to Move to Japan
Here’s the unexpected twist in our story: Our first choice for a long-term stay abroad was actually Bangkok, Thailand.
We genuinely love Thailand.
Yes, the heat can be intense, but the warmth and optimism of Thai culture—and Bangkok’s vibrant energy—left a strong impression on us.
Thailand also offers a retirement visa program for applicants aged 50 and above, allowing long-term legal residence. For us at the time, that seemed like a realistic future option.
So for several years, we visited Bangkok regularly, partly for travel and partly to understand what long-term life there might look like. I even studied Thai for about six months because we were seriously preparing for that path.
But we weren’t yet old enough to meet the age requirement. Then the pandemic arrived—and everything paused indefinitely.
Related reading: Check out our Bangkok stories here: Next stop Bangkok
And Then, We Almost Moved to Portugal
While waiting for Thailand to become realistic, we discovered Portugal’s D7 Passive Income Visa.
The D7 Visa does not impose an age requirement, and compared to many residency-by-investment programs, the financial threshold is relatively accessible. We had always been curious about Europe, and Lisbon’s lifestyle—pleasant weather, walkable neighborhoods, and an incredible pastry culture—was naturally appealing to us (especially since our channel focuses on baking).
After researching and speaking with a Taiwanese legal consultant based in Lisbon, we seriously considered making the move. I even began studying Portuguese to prepare for life there.
But once again, global events intervened. During the height of the pandemic, Portuguese visa processing slowed dramatically, and we found ourselves waiting yet again.
Why Did We End Up Moving to Japan?
While everything felt stalled, we happened to come across a video by a Japanese administrative scrivener on YouTube. In it, they explained that content creators—including YouTubers—could potentially relocate to Japan by establishing a company under the Business Manager Visa category.
That caught our attention immediately.
We were YouTubers. Could that apply to us?
At first, we approached the idea cautiously. It sounded almost too convenient. But after reviewing our channel and background, the scrivener told us that our profile was a strong fit for the visa category. Until that moment, we had never seriously considered living in Japan. But Japan is geographically close to Taiwan, culturally familiar in some ways, and logistically more manageable than relocating across continents. From our personal perspective, blending into daily life felt relatively natural. At the same time, we understood that Japan can feel culturally distinct—sometimes even reserved—to outsiders. Still, Kyoto in particular has gradually become more welcoming to international residents and creative professionals in recent years.
So we decided to try.
To our surprise, the process moved faster than expected—so fast that we barely had time to begin studying Japanese before departure.
In the end, we studied Thai but didn’t move to Bangkok. We studied Portuguese but didn’t move to Lisbon. We never studied Japanese—and yet we found ourselves starting a new chapter in Kyoto.
Looking back, our language preparation was completely misaligned with our final destination.
Japan Has So Many Cities—Why Kyoto?
To be honest, choosing Kyoto wasn’t the result of a long strategic analysis. It was more of a quiet instinct.
We’re not hardcore Japan travelers. I had only visited Tokyo once, nearly twenty years ago, on a short trip with my sister. A few years later, thanks to credit card reward miles, my husband and I visited Kyoto twice. Both stays were brief, and during the second trip we also spent a couple of days in Osaka—so we didn’t walk away with a deep comparative understanding of Japanese cities.
Still, those short visits left a subtle but lasting impression. Kyoto’s pace of life felt balanced—walkable, human-scaled, calm but not sleepy. It felt like a place where daily routines could breathe.
So when our scrivener asked which city we wanted to register our company in, we chose Kyoto almost immediately. Not because we had mapped out every variable—but because something about it felt sustainable for living in Kyoto as foreigners.
Kyoto is often described as traditional and somewhat reserved, but in recent years the expat community in Kyoto—especially among creatives and independent professionals—has quietly grown. For us, it felt like the right balance between cultural depth and livability.
More from our Kyoto life: A quick trip up Mount Hiei, Cherry Blossoms in Omihachiman, Wow, Japan really does have a lot of public holidays!
Landing in Kyoto Without Speaking a Word
We didn’t begin learning the Japanese syllabary (hiragana and katakana) until after our visa was approved. At the time, we still weren’t certain the application would succeed—and we were technically studying Portuguese instead.
When we arrived, we planned to handle our resident registration ourselves. In Japan, you’re required to register your address within 14 days of establishing residence.
We were concerned about how we would communicate with local government staff without speaking Japanese.
Our mindset was simple: hand gestures, Google Translate, and persistence. If we didn’t understand something, we would just try again. We had two weeks—surely that would be enough.
As it turned out, things unfolded differently.
Before we even landed, our administrative scrivener had connected us with a Chinese-speaking real estate agent in Kyoto. That connection changed everything.
On our second morning in Japan, just as we were preparing to navigate city hall alone, he messaged us offering to drive us there and assist with the process.
After completing resident registration, he also accompanied us to the Immigration Services Agency to update our address on our residence cards and correct the printed name format. My residence card had initially been marked “not permitted to work,” which required correction. Without his help, it might have taken us much longer to resolve.
Your residence card is issued at the airport after immigration clearance. Although officers ask you to review it, mistakes can be easy to overlook—especially when you’re tired, unfamiliar with the system, or navigating a language barrier. Double-check every detail and address corrections promptly during your city registration process.
Over the following days, our agent helped us obtain phone numbers, open a Japan Post Bank account, and secure our current apartment. He also assisted with setting up Wi-Fi, utilities, and gas service.
From landing in Japan to arranging all essential daily infrastructure, the entire process took less than two weeks. We had originally booked a hotel for a full month, expecting delays, but everything moved faster than anticipated and we checked out early.
In hindsight, our main responsibility during those first weeks was simply to show up, sign documents, and follow instructions. Having professional support on the ground made the transition dramatically smoother.
Can You Really Live in Japan Without Speaking the Language?
One of the most common questions we receive is whether living in Japan without Japanese is realistic. In our experience, daily life in Kyoto as a foreigner is manageable—even if you start with limited language ability.
There are certainly moments of confusion, but modern tools help. Google Translate, translation apps, and increasingly digital service systems reduce friction significantly.
For example, most supermarkets in Kyoto now offer self-checkout. Ordering food in many restaurants involves touch-screen menus. In these situations, minimal conversation is required.
Contrary to some online stereotypes, we have not experienced hostility for speaking limited Japanese. Most people we’ve encountered—from store staff to city officials—have been patient and professional. In some cases, younger staff members switch to English when they sense hesitation.
That said, daily survival and professional integration are two different matters.
Because we work independently as YouTubers, we operate largely from home and do not rely on Japanese office environments. In that context, limited Japanese has not prevented us from functioning.
However, for those seeking employment within a Japanese corporate setting, language proficiency is typically essential. Business communication, workplace culture, and long-term career growth generally require a much stronger command of Japanese.
For now, we continue learning gradually—one interaction at a time.
Why Did We Choose to Live Abroad?
Relocating in midlife is complicated—not necessarily because of logistics, but because of what you’ve accumulated.
By your forties or fifties, you usually have stability: financial structure, routines, a carefully built comfort zone. In theory, that should make a long-term stay abroad easier. In reality, it often makes it harder.
The more you build, the more you have to disrupt. The longer you stay inside a system that works, the more intimidating it becomes to step outside it.
When you’re younger, you can move overseas almost experimentally—study abroad, take risks, change directions quickly. A midlife relocation feels different. Decisions carry weight. There are reputations, responsibilities, and years of structure behind you. Every move feels less reversible.
But we also realized something else: stability can quietly turn into inertia.
We were living comfortably in Taipei. Over the years, we had built a life that functioned smoothly. Yet comfort, if left unquestioned, can dull curiosity. We began to notice that our sense of urgency—the energy that once pushed us forward—was fading.
So we asked ourselves a direct question: what would it look like to deliberately disrupt that comfort?
Not because we were unhappy. Not because we were escaping something.
But because we wanted to test whether we were still capable of starting over later in life.
There are only so many years when your body allows you to move freely, adapt quickly, and rebuild from scratch. Waiting for the “perfect timing” often means waiting forever. So instead of optimizing for certainty, we chose movement. Instead of minimizing risk completely, we accepted a manageable level of it.
Every expat story is different.
Some people leave to escape pressure.
Some leave to chase scale or opportunity.
For us, the motivation was simpler: exploration.
We wanted to see what would happen if we placed ourselves in an unfamiliar system and rebuilt our daily life from zero. The more you explore externally, the more you uncover internally.
Looking back, the decision may appear impulsive. In truth, the idea of living abroad had been quietly forming for years. Kyoto simply became the place where that long-standing intention finally took shape.
If you’re considering moving abroad later in life, our story is just one example—not a blueprint.
We’ve shared a more detailed FAQ about our move to Kyoto in the video below. It’s in Mandarin Chinese with English subtitles for international viewers.
We’ll continue documenting our experience of living in Kyoto as foreigners—what works, what surprises us, and what we’re still learning along the way.